a big jump. `Good-bye,' he says, nodding at me like a lord; `you ain't half a bad chap, Egstrom. I give you my word that if you knew my reasons you wouldn't care to keep me.' `That's the biggest lie you ever told in your life,' says I; `I know my own mind.' He made me so mad that I had to laugh. `Can't you really stop long enough to drink this glass of beer here, you funny beggar, you?' I don't know what came over him; he didn't seem able to find the door; something comical, I can tell you, captain. I drank the beer myself. `Well, if you're in such a hurry, here's luck to you in your own drink,' says I; `only, you mark my words, if you keep up this game you'll very soon find that the earth ain't big enough to hold you--that's all.' He gave me one black look, and out he rushed with a face fit to scare little children."

`Egstrom snorted bitterly, and combed one auburn whisker with knotty fingers. "Haven't been able to get a man that was any good since. It's nothing but worry, worry, worry in business. And where might you have come across him, captain, if it's fair to ask?"

"`He was the mate of the Patna that voyage." I said, feeling that I owed some explanation. For a time Egstrom remained very still, with his fingers plunged in the hair at the side of his face, and then exploded. "And who the devil cares about that?" "I dare say no one," I began . . . "And what the devil is he--anyhow-- for to go on like this?" He stuffed suddenly his left whisker into his mouth and stood amazed. "Jee!" he exclaimed, "I told him the earth wouldn't be big enough to hold his caper."'